


Twenty-Five

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, Lots of Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Stony - Freeform, ValCarol - Freeform, backstabbing maybe, kingdom - Freeform, kingdom au, sambucky - Freeform, thorbruce, wandavision - Freeform, warfare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tony Stark can’t wait until his 25th birthday, when he gets to step up as king of his father’s kingdom. But when Steve Rogers, the best knight in the kingdom and his father’s friend, interferes with his plans, Tony can’t help but feel angry. However, those feelings come to change when Thor and Loki Odinson bring news of an attack on Tony’s kingdom. Without a king, they are powerless. Tony must learn to step up and accept the help of others, especially Steve Rogers, if they are to win.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Valkyrie, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Thor Odinson/Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Kudos: 14





	1. The Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I got this inspiration from someone on the Marvel Amino, so thank you! I hope you like it; this is the first whole fan fiction I’ve written for Marvel.  
> This work will halve multiple chapters and I don’t know how often the updates will be. But enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark is the ruler of the kingdom of Asterin; or soon to be ruler, at least. He explores his kingdom and encounters a thief, whom he talks to and releases. Then he awaits the soldiers, who return from a conflict with the Afide Kingdom. Unfortunately, the Afide Kingdom seems to have made some deadly alliances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first chapter, go. Yay. There isn't any stony in this. I don't know how scientists worked back in those days.

A lark, small and grey, came to rest on the branch outside the window. It opened its beak and warbled a soft, pleasant melody before flitting off again. Tony rested a cheek on the stained glass, which was painted with hues of reds and oranges and yellows. Sunlight came in slowly though the colors, washing the room in fiery light.  
It was sunny outside; a peaceful morning. Exactly the way Tony liked it.  
He sighed, stepping back from the window and turning towards the door. His royal chambers were large and empty; they made Tony, who was already small, feel smaller. The stone floor was cold on his bare feet; he supposed he would have to put on boots at some point.  
Tony stepped out of his chambers; outside of them was a staircase. His father had built the royal chambers to be at the top of the tallest tower of the castle for ‘safety’ reasons, but climbing up and down the long, winding staircase was a hassle, especially since Tony had to do it everyday. What had his father been thinking when he had ordered it to be built?  
It took Tony a while to reach the bottom of the staircase, and by that time he was out of breath and panting. The throne room was on the other side of the castle; if Tony’s father was here, he would’ve yelled at him.  
Howard Stark had died nearly three years back, in a raid on the kingdom. They had won, but the kingdom had lost their ruler. Tony was the next in line for the throne, but he wasn’t allowed to take it until he was 25. That had been his father’s rule, and Tony had to honor it.  
The throne room was already full by the time Tony reached it. It had high ceilings and polished marble floors, so clean that Tony could see his reflection in them. The throne sat at the very front of the room, untouched by anyone in three years. It was a stone seat with gold accents and draped in red cloth. It wouldn’t be Tony’s for another few months.  
The Council was waiting for him; Tony took a seat in a small, less important chair next to the throne. It was usually reserved for princes and princesses to sit in.  
Nicholas Fury leaned forward; he was the head of the kingdom now that Howard Stark had died. Tony wasn’t old enough to lead, so he had appointed Fury to take charge of public matters until he came of age to ascend the throne.  
“Your Highness,” said Fury, his voice dripping with its usual sarcasm. “Good morning.”  
“Good morning to you too, sir,” said Tony. His father had addressed Fury as ‘sir’, so Tony did too. “There seems to be something troubling you. What is it?”  
Fury opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha got there first.  
“Your Highness, I’m sure you are aware of the skirmish near the border with the Afide Kingdom,” said Natasha.  
“Of course,” said Tony, trying to be as ‘regal’ as possible. “Why, what has happened there?”  
Natasha Romanoff was from the Eastlands, from a place called Russia. She came to Tony’s kingdom right after his father had died, and had been staying with them ever since. She was a beautiful woman, with red hair and green eyes; but she was unmarried, something that the people of his kingdom frowned upon. Tony didn’t mind much.  
“It appears the Afide Kingdom has surrendered,” said Natasha, straightening a pin in her hair. “We now own that piece of land.”  
Tony smiled. It was his first true victory since his father had died; it was a nice feeling.  
“And what of the soldiers?” asked Tony. “When will they be home?”  
“Soon, Prince Anthony,” said Natasha. She was also one of the few people who called Tony by name. “There have been some casualties.”  
Tony sat up in his chair, his stomach dropping. “No one killed, I hope?”  
“I do not believe so,” said Natasha. Too soon, Tony breathed a sigh of relief. “There have been soldiers wounded. And one gone missing.”  
“We shall give them the proper medical treatment when they return from battle, and arrange the funeral rites as soon as possible,” Tony said, standing up. Rhodey was out there somewhere, fighting. “Is there anything else anyone wishes to tell me?”  
“Sir, the thief-” started one of the councilmen, but Tony cut him off.  
“I shall take care of the thief,” said Tony, putting a hand up to stop him. “In fact, I will head there right now.”  
“I will get the horses ready-” said someone in the crowd.  
“No, Sir Connor,” said Tony. “I will take care of this myself.”  
“Yes, your Highness,” said Sir Connor, and Tony walked out the doors of the castle.

The kingdom of Asterin was alive in the morning. People flitted about, going to and from their jobs to the market to their houses. Children played in the street or studied in their houses, small stone buildings with thatch roofs. The cobblestone of the streets would have to be replaced, Tony noticed as he walked down the main road of Asterin. It was coming off in chips, worn and torn from years of use and neglect.  
The thief was waiting in the square, bound to a long wooden post. He was a tall man with dark hair and an innocent face; hardly the face of a criminal. Tony frowned and walked up to him.  
“Mister Lang,” said Tony. He watched confusion, and then shock come over his face as he realized who he was talking to.  
“Your Highness,” said Scott Lang, stuttering a bit. “I-”  
“Tell me,” said Tony. “Where do you work?”  
“I do not work anywhere, sir,” said Scott Lang. “For I have been tied to this post for the past few days.”  
Tony’s eyes widened. “Few days?” he turned to the guardsmen, who took a step back. “I thought you had bound him just for today?”  
“Your Majesty, forgive us,” said one of the guards, bowing deeply. “We thought that he should be tied up like this.”  
“You’ve disobeyed direct orders,” said Tony, looking at them fiercely. “Go to the palace. I shall see that you are punished there.”  
One of the guardsmen let out a small cry, and they both hurried off down the road and towards the castle.  
“Are you really going to punish them?” asked Scott Lang. “I really do not mind being tied to this post-”  
“I am not going to punish them,” said Tony, smiling. “But I might punish you. Where did you work before this?”  
“I was an apprentice of Leopold the builder,” said Scott Lang. “But I stole something from a shop. And now I am here.”  
“Tell me, why did you steal?” said Tony.  
“I don’t know,” said Lang. “I-I suppose I needed the money.”  
“I see,” said Tony, nodding slowly. “Very well, Lang.”  
Tony watched Scott swallow slowly, the expression in his eyes scared and confused. The one Tony had worn so often when he was younger.  
“Release him,” said Tony to two other guardsmen that had replaced the first ones. “And take him back to his house.”  
Scott looked surprised. “You’re letting me go?” he asked. “Why?”  
“The kingdom could use someone like you,” said Tony. “It’d be a shame if we had to throw you in prison.”  
“Thank you, your Highness,” said Scott, bowing deeply. Tony winced; he didn’t really like it when people bowed to him.  
Tony watched Scott run down the road, not looking back. Tony frowned; he didn’t really think he was that intimidating.  
All his life, people had winced when speaking to him. He had watched them talk to his father as well, bowing so deep that their nose almost touched the floor and speaking to Howard Stark in a small, fearful voice. Tony didn’t want to be that kind of ruler; but this kingdom had only ever known one type.  
He sighed and turned back towards the palace. 

The palace wasn’t Tony’s first stop. He had always liked the marketplace; it was so alive and full and occasionally surprising. It was one of his favorite spots in the whole kingdom. The others were a little harder to reach than this one was.  
Not that it wasn’t hard to make his way through the crowds; Tony didn’t have his guards with him, which meant that barely anyone recognized him. He was alright with that; sometimes the security and following got overwhelming.  
Tony took a deep breath; there was some sort of aroma coming from one of the stands. It was meat cooking over a fire, Tony thought as he looked at the sky above the stalls. There was smoke coming from one, so Tony made his way over to it.  
The owner of the stand had his back facing Tony, poking the meat with a stick. Tony cleared his throat and the vendor turned, surprised.  
“Your Highness,” he said, smiling.  
“Clint,” said Tony, smirking. “I see you’ve been busy.”  
“Well, Laura is watching the children right now, so I thought I might as well watch her shop,” said Clint, wiping his hands off with a cloth. “Can I help you?”  
“I’m not really looking for anything,” said Tony. “No hunting today?”  
“No,” said Clint. “Laura asked me to run this today. Lila’s not feeling all too well today.”  
Tony frowned. “Is she alright?” he asked. “Would you like me to get a doctor?”  
“She is not sick,” said Clint. “I suppose she spent too much time in the cold yesterday.”  
“I see,” said Tony, eyeing the meat. “Say, is that chicken?”  
“It is,” said Clint. “From yesterday’s hunt. Do you want some?”  
“I think I do,” said Tony, smiling. “But let me pay for it.”  
“Please, I insist,” said Clint. “Free, for his Majesty.”  
“Barton.”  
Clint was one of Tony’s closer friends. They had met a few years back, in the woods. Tony’s father had instructed his guards to take Tony to the woods for hunting, but Tony had wandered off and gotten lost. Clint had found him up a tree and brought him back to his guardsmen, after swearing never to tell anyone about it.  
“Here you go,” said Clint, pulling off a leg. “You don’t have to pay.”  
“But I want to,” said Tony, pulling coins out of his bag. “Here. Take all of it.”  
“Ton-”  
“Careful with that tone, Barton,” said Tony, smirking. “I’ll have to execute you.”  
“You would never,” said Clint, feigning hurt.  
“I would never,” said Tony, laughing. “See you later.”  
“Good-bye,” said Clint, and Tony left the stand. The crowd had thinned slightly in the time he had spent with Clint, and now Tony could see over people, even with his short stature.  
No one had recognized him yet; it was a nice feeling sometimes, ignorance.  
The castle itself was not far from the market; it was just the hilly roads that made it seem like a long way away. The council had long since dispersed from the morning meeting, and now it was just Natasha and Fury sitting together at the top of the chamber. They were studying something; Tony walked up to them, uneaten chicken still in hand.  
“What’s that?” asked Natasha, looking up when he approached.  
“Clint was making something,” said Tony. “I tried some.”  
“I don’t think you’ve tried it yet,” said Fury, eyeing the untouched leg.  
Tony didn’t like Fury at times, but he was too important to lose. “I will,” said Tony. “Do you want some?”  
Fury shook his head, but Natasha looked at the chicken leg warily. “Uh, I’m fine,” said Natasha. “Did you meet Lang?”  
“Yes,” said Tony. “I let him go.”  
“You let him go?” Fury asked incredulously. “Why?”  
“He seemed sorry,” said Tony, shrugging. “Why?”  
Fury shook his head. “You can’t just let people go like that. What if they’re actually bad?”  
“We wait until they do something bad,” Tony said. “This one- Lang, he didn’t seem like he did anything bad. Innocent guy. Plus, the guards had bound him to the post for a few days.”  
“A few days?” asked Natasha, eyes wide. “That could not have been pleasant.”  
As much as she liked to hide it, Tony knew a fair bit about Natasha Romanov’s past. She came from a Russian royal family that Tony’s father had known quite well. Her family had died in the war, and ever since, she had been staying with Asterin’s royal family. Tony didn’t mind; he liked Natasha. She was fun, if a little mysterious.  
“The soldiers are on their way home,” said Fury suddenly. He waved off a small page and read off the piece of parchment. “The Afide Kingdom was allied with someone else.”  
“Does it say who?” Tony pressed.  
“No, it doesn’t,” said Fury. “Only that the Afide Kingdom retreated even though the odds were in their favor.”  
“I don’t like that,” said Tony. “Something about it isn’t right.”  
“Everything about it isn’t right,” said Natasha. “Where are the soldiers right now?”  
“Dappers’ Creek,” said Fury. “They’ll be home by sundown.”  
“Brilliant,” said Natasha. “They’ll get to see their families again.”  
She stopped talking, and the green light in her eyes dimmed just a little bit. Tony didn’t know too much about Natasha’s family, only that they were dead. He put a hand on her shoulder, but she waved him off.  
“Ignore me,” she said happily. “I shouldn’t mope. But if the Afide Kingdom was allied with someone; they’ll attack again.”  
Natasha Romanov also happened to be a great tactician. That’s why Tony put her in the court. That and she was royalty.  
“What do you propose we do?” asked Tony, although he had something in mind already.  
“Wait for the soldiers to give us more information,” said Natasha, at the same time that Fury said “Attack now, and don’t take any chances.”  
“What?” asked Natasha, turning towards Fury in disbelief.  
“I could ask you the same question,” said Fury, frowning slightly. “If we attack now, they won’t bother us.”  
“We don’t even know that they’ve done something wrong!” said Natasha. Tony backed away; Natasha was frightening when she was angry.  
“Would you risk the safety of our entire kingdom on a hunch?” Fury shot back.  
Nicholas Fury and Natasha Romanov were friends; Tony knew that. They were quite close, except when they argued. When that happened, most of the council found it best to just back away slowly.  
It was near noon now; Tony supposed he should go upstairs to get ready for a meal, but the stairs looked so long and daunting that he just couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, Tony walked the other way, away from the stairs.  
This path led to a small courtyard that only a few people knew about; Tony had a few people about it, and that was it. It was another one of his favorite places in the kingdom and maybe the best workspace in all of Asterin.  
Tony thought he would find Bruce here; and he did. Banner was sitting knee-deep in the lush, green grasses of the park, eyes closed and breathing steady. Bruce Banner came out here often to meditate or relax; he had anger issues, Tony knew that.  
Bruce Banner also happened to be one of the best healers in the kingdom, apart from Stephen Strange; he was, however, first and foremost an aspiring scientist. He lived in the palace, in a small stone hut on the far side of the grounds, away from all the noise and tension of royal life. Tony let him; it was nice, having someone who shared your aspirations.  
Bruce blinked open an eye, looking sideways at Tony, who stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Hello, Tony,” he said, his voice raspy from lack of use. “What brings you here?”  
“Oh, nothing,” said Tony, moving to sit down on a bench. “I just missed my friend.”  
“Is that supposed to be me?” asked Bruce, smiling.  
“I don’t know,” said Tony. “It could be. Do you want it to be?”  
“That would be nice,” said Bruce. “A friend.”  
“If it’s a friend you want, Sir Banner, then it is a friend you shall have!” Tony declared loudly, pointing a finger in the air. “Let it be known that this man, here, Bruce Banner, is my friend!”  
“Tony, shhh,” said Bruce. “You’re being very loud.”  
“I know,” said Tony, laughing.  
“Any news?” asked Bruce, closing both eyes again.  
“Yes, actually,” said Tony, laying down across the bench and looking up to the sky, which was a brilliant blue. “The soldiers are coming back. From the Afide Kingdom.”  
“So soon?” asked Bruce, surprised. He turned to face Tony. “Did they defeat the Afide Kingdom?”  
“I do not believe they did,” said Tony. “Natasha said something about the Afide Kingdom having the upper hand and then retreating.”  
“That is not right,” said Bruce, arching an eyebrow.  
“No, it isn’t,” said Tony. “They had an ally too.”  
“An ally?” asked Bruce. “Who?”  
“We don’t know, but when the soldiers come home today hopefully they can tell us.”  
“Of course,” said Bruce, and then looked at the floor. “And Lady Natasha… told you all of this?”  
Tony chuckled. Bruce had taken a liking to Natasha; but Bruce was awkward around women, so he had never gotten the chance to speak to her.  
“She did,” Tony said. “If you want to speak to her, I’ll take you.”  
“No, no,” said Bruce. “That would be odd. I’m fine.”  
“All right, then,” said Tony. “I’m hungry. Are you?”  
“N-” started Bruce, but then was cut off by his stomach growling loudly. He looked at Tony sheepishly. “Yes.”  
“Come along, friend of mine,” said Tony, grabbing Bruce’s hand and dragging him out of the courtyard, despite his weak protests. “We shall have a glorious feast.”  
“Tony.” 

It was not until well after noon that the trumpets sounded in the distance, at the far reaches of the town. They were loud; so loud that Tony could hear them from his window in the top tower. Squinting, he saw marching; horses whinnied and galloped through the cobblestone streets, their riders bruised and battered.  
He made it down the stairs in almost record time and into the throne room, where the council had met again, clearly to the sound of the horns. Tony took a seat in his regular spot at the front of the room, where he could see the large castle doors very clearly. Natasha and Fury sat closest to Tony on his right side, clearly over their argument from earlier. Bruce was here today too; he usually never came to council meetings even though Tony begged him to. He sat on the left side, apart from everyone. Bruce wasn’t that popular with others.  
The doors creaked open, and the lively melody of the horns stopped as the soldiers came marching in. Some carried long scars and bruises across their face; others were limping or leaning on someone.  
Tony had been on the battlefield once, a long time ago. He knew what these soldiers had gone through.  
“Your Highness,” said a voice. Tony sat up in his chair.  
Throwing professionalism to the side, he leapt out of his throne and down the stairs to the owner of the voice.  
“Rhodey!”


	2. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soldiers come home from battle, wounded and sick and weary. Tony spots his friend, Rhodey, and from him, he gets terrible news. Tony takes the soldiers down to Healer Strange, who sends him and Steve Rogers to Wanda Maximoff's house. There, they encounter something truly terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so here's the second chapter. We get a little bit of stevetony in this one, and a flashback. I still don't know how medicine worked back in those days, so I'm gonna try this for now. Don't kill me if I get it wrong lol.  
> Anyway there's some noble Steve and annoyed Tony in this chap, so yeah.

“How have you been, Tony?” Rhodey asks, pulling back.  
Tony grinned. “I’ve been holding up alright.”  
Then he realizes that the entire court is staring at the two of them. Rhodey clears his throat. “Hello, councilmen.”  
“General Rhodes,” says Fury, nodding. Next to him, Natasha looks at Tony, a small smile playing on her face. “It is good to see you.”  
“It is nice to see you again, Sir Nicholas,” said Rhodey, nodding back, and then he turns to Bruce. “Bruce. Some of these soldiers need medical attention.”  
“Of course,” said Bruce, looking slightly startled. “I- I’ll just see that they get it.”  
“Take them down to Strange, if you will,” Fury called as Bruce left the room, a few soldiers behind him.  
“Please, take a seat,” said Tony, gesturing to the empty council hall. “Tell me, how many casualties were there?”  
“20 injured, one dead, and one missing in combat,” said Sam Wilson, one of the younger soldiers. Tony frowned.  
“One dead?” asked Natasha. “Who was it?”  
“Terrence Connor,” said Rhodey. “He was on the older side. Couldn’t get away in time. Shot through the heart.”  
Tony looked around the room for Sir Connor, Terrence’s son, but he was nowhere to be found. “That’s terrible,” he said. “And the one missing?”  
“James Buchanan Barnes,” said Rhodey, looking down. “He went out to rescue one of the younger soldiers and was captured. We thought him dead.”  
Tony looked down. He hadn’t known Barnes all too well, but he had been a good man and a good soldier; one of the best, in fact.  
“We should send a search party out to find him,” said Natasha, standing up abruptly. Natasha had been one of Barnes’ closer friends; of course she would want to search for him.  
“One soldier?” asked Fury. “Is it worth risking the lives of more men for one soldier who might already be dead?”  
Here we go again, Tony thought glumly as Natasha and Fury started bickering. He stepped towards Rhodey.  
“If you don’t mind, I think I’m not going to participate in this discussion,” Tony told his friend quietly. “I would not want to be the one to get between Lady Romanov and Sir Fury.”  
“A wise decision,” said Rhodey. “If you want to check on the soldiers, I believe they are with Master Strange.”  
“Thank you, Rhodes,” said Tony, walking down the stairs of the throne room. “I think I will.”  
Quickly, he backed out of the room; Natasha and Fury continued to argue, their voices sharp and loud against the faint hum of the hall.

Stephen Strange was the kingdom’s best physician (and one of the only physicians). Tony trusted him the most with wounded warriors, so soldiers were regularly sent to him instead of the castle infirmary.  
He lived in the center of the town, in a larger stone house. Smoke and fumes surged from his brick chimney, which was embedded into a thatch roof. It was two stories, although the first floor Stephen preferred to use as a hospital rather than a living area. In front of the house was a quaint garden, flowering with springtime daisies and catnip. The soil of the garden looked freshly tilled, as if someone had been here before.  
The streets of Asterin were empty; many of the soldiers had gone home directly to their families, and most people were inside now. Tony could hear their warm, joyful laughing and talking from the inside of their small houses.  
The last time Tony had been at a meal with his family was two nights before the raid that killed his father. His mother, Maria, had died only a few months prior to his father’s death.  
It had been a cloudy evening, the last, dying rays of the sun peeking through the thick grey blanket covering the sky.  
Howard Stark had already come to the table, sitting in his chair straight-backed and stone-faced. He greeted Tony, who arrived a few moments later than he should have, with a nod accompanied by a small frown. Tony looked at his feet and took a seat.  
Family dinners had been fun before his mother had died; she loved to cook for them occasionally. Maria Stark came from Italy rather than England; her culture had often crept its way into the royal families’ meals.  
Tonight, the cook had made nothing special; just the usual old meal, consisting of pork and vegetables. Tony didn’t like any of that, so he picked absently at his food until Howard cleared his throat.  
“Anthony,” said his father. Tony looked up at him.  
“Howard,” said Tony flatly.  
His father frowned at him; Tony was supposed to address him as father, not Howard. “Anthony,” he went on. “Your 25th birthday is approaching soon. Although I will still be king, I would like to make you commander-in-chief of our armed forces.”  
Tony had no interest in being a commander of armed forces; he said so. “Father, must I be?”  
Howard’s frown deepened. “Of course you must be. You’ve spent enough time as a child. It’s time to take some responsibility.”  
And responsibility he had taken. Only a few days later, Howard Stark was found dead in his room, spread-eagled and wide-eyed on the floor. Tony hadn’t been able to look at his body for long; he had run away as soon as he had seen it.  
Tony stepped into Stephen Strange’s house. The inside was not nearly as nice as the outside. It was hot and crowded, with light filtering in through one of the windows. The whole place stank of sweat and blood; soldiers were sitting down against the walls, either bandaged or bleeding.  
Stephen Strange was in the middle of the room, treating a tall man with golden hair. Strange was wrapping bandages around his forearm, which had suffered a nasty, deep cut.  
“Your Highness,” said Strange when Tony entered. All eyes immediately flit to Tony, but he ignored them. “What brings you down from your castle?”  
“I wanted to see how the soldiers were doing,” said Tony, ignoring Stephen’s quip. They had bantered like that often when they were younger, and Tony had never minded. “How are they holding up?”  
“Not bad,” said Strange. “There don’t seem to be any major wounds. Although I may not have the resources to treat this one’s other cuts.”  
Tony looked at the current patient. He had deep blue eyes and a muscular build; cuts decorated his body, some shallow and others deep and content, oozing warm red blood. His face was all sliced up too; Tony had a feeling that he knew this man, although he couldn’t tell.  
“What happened to you?” asked Tony, giving him a once-over.  
“He took a knife for quite a few people,” said Stephen, shaking his head. Then he turned to the man. “Sir Rogers, I may not have the medicines necessary to treat those wounds with.”  
“What do you need?” Bruce’s voice came from the back of the room, in a shadowy corner where he treated a small, hefty man. “I can take him.”  
“Are you sure?” asked Strange. “Perhaps I should take him to the Maximoff house.”  
“The Maximoff house?” asked Tony, confused. “Why would you take him there?”  
“Wanda Maximoff has a larger garden, much larger than mine. Hopefully I can find something there to help heal this wound,” Stephen explained. “Can you walk?” he addressed Rogers, who nodded.  
Now Tony remembered him; that was Steve Rogers, one of the best knights in the kingdom. Howard had been rather close with him, although Tony didn’t care too much about knights and valor.  
“Bruce, if you’ll take Steve down to the Maximoff residence, I can finish treating the rest of the soldiers,” said Stephen, turning to the others, who still waited for help.  
Tony came forward. “Strange, do you need help?” he asked.  
“Well, I suppose,” said Stephen, turning around. “But your Highness, I don’t think you would exactly be the best at this.”  
“I could stay and help,” said Bruce, coming forward before Tony could reply. “Tony, take Rogers down to the Maximoff house.”  
Tony didn’t like being given orders; it was one of his pet peeves. But if these two insisted, and it would help the soldiers, he would do it.  
“Come along, Rogers,” said Tony, beckoning for Steve to join him.  
Steve followed quickly behind Tony, who was out the door quickly.  
Tony had heard a lot about Steve Rogers; his father had almost idolized him. It was an annoying feeling, being the second-best to someone who wasn’t even family.  
Steve really couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Tony was; he looked to be in his late twenties, although with the limp and the bruised face he couldn’t really tell. He hadn’t been around in Tony’s youth, which meant that they had grown up at the same time.  
“Your Highness,” said Steve suddenly, making Tony turn around. “Thank you for bringing me to the Maximoffs.”  
Tony turned away from him and kept walking. “It was the least I could do after you risked your life for our kingdom,” said Tony, trying not to let the pent-up jealousy he felt towards Steve creep into his voice. “Now, hurry up unless you want to bleed out where you stand.”  
Steve picked up the pace a little; Tony, reluctantly, slowed down his own footsteps to let Steve keep up.  
By the time they had reached the end of the main road, Steve was limping heavily; with a sigh, Tony stopped and faced him. “Is it paining you?” he asked Rogers.  
Steve shook his head and took another step. Stubborn, Tony noted. “I am fine, your highness.”  
“If you insist,” says Tony, turning back around. “We’re near there.”  
The Maximoff house was far away from the bustling center of the kingdom, isolated and near Dappers’ Woods, through which the soldiers had come. Tony remembered when the Maximoff family lived here; all four of them. It had been the same night that Tony’s father had died that the lives of the Maximoffs had been taken. Now only Wanda remained, tending to her plants and living in solitude.  
It was a small house, with opened windows and a strange scent coming from inside. The air smelled of fennel and cedar, like the plants that grew in the forest, and wafted into Tony’s nostrils from the bright fire burning inside the house. Outside, Wanda grew plants; small saplings, not yet ready for use. She had a much bigger garden out back, on the edge of the woods, where Tony saw her often.  
“Miss Maximoff!” Tony called as he and Steve came to the front door. It was a stable door; the top half had been unlocked and swung wide open. Inside, Tony could see Wanda moving about.  
“Come in!” she called.  
Tony opened the bottom section of the door and led Rogers inside. Wanda turned and jumped. “Your Majesty!” she cried.  
“Hello, Miss Maximoff,” said Tony, approaching her. He stopped Wanda as she knelt. “There’s no need for that. Sir Rogers has an injury. Healer Strange was hoping you could take care of it.”  
“Of course,” said Wanda, hurrying over to Steve.  
Tony took a seat on the windowsill as Wanda tended to Sir Rogers. Night was falling fast; he wanted to be in the center of the town before it got too dark. Strange things tended to roam the woods at night, especially on moonless ones like this. They had taken the life of many of the villagers before; why Wanda chose to live on the edge of the town, Tony wasn’t sure.  
“As soon as you are done, Miss Maximoff,” said Tony. “We really must get going.”  
“Sorry, your Highness,” said Wanda, hurrying to wrap a piece of cloth over Steve’s right knee. “I’ll finish as soon as possible.”  
“Prince Anthony,” Steve says, turning to face him. No one addressed him by his first name; at least not any of the common folk. Although, Tony thought, Steve wasn’t exactly normal. “If you would like to go ahead of me, I can make it back by myself.”  
“That is definitely not happening,” said Tony. “I brought you down here. It’s my responsibility to make sure you get back safe.”  
“You really don’t have to-”  
“I insist,” says Tony, waving off Steve’s protests. “It is my duty as ruler of this kingdom to protect my people, isn’t it?”  
“And it is my duty, your Highness, to make sure no harm comes to you,” says Steve, looking Tony straight in the eye. It’s a bit unnerving. “So please.”  
“No.”  
“Please don’t argue,” asks Wanda, before shooting a nervous glance at Tony, who chuckled. The people of the kingdom knew not to be afraid of him, yet some were always like that, no matter what. Power was the driving thing in everyone’s lives, whether they knew it or not, and as far as this kingdom was concerned, Tony had the most.  
“There,” says Steve, getting up. His knee is all wrapped up and he looks ready to go. “Now, if you will, your highness.”  
“It’s dark outside,” Tony says, looking out the window. “Wanda, do you have a lantern by any chance?”  
“I do,” says Wanda, holding a small glass case with a little candle inside. It isn’t much light, but for Tony, it would be fine. “Goodbye, your Highness. Goodbye, Steve. Stay safe.”  
“We will,” says Steve, before Tony can answer. “Thank you, Miss Maximoff.”  
Wanda smiles at them, and Tony turns on his heel and is out the door. Steve follows close behind him, still limping a little bit.  
“You know, talking back to the prince like that could be considered a crime,” says Tony, glancing sideways at Steve.  
“But you wouldn’t, your Highness,” says Steve, smirking. “Because I know you.”  
“I suppose that is fair,” says Tony. “You know, growing up, I had hated you.” It’s sudden; so sudden that Tony has to stop.  
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Why?”  
“I don’t know,” Tony says. “Father had always liked you more than he had liked me. I suppose my young self had never understood why.”  
“We hadn’t even met when we were younger,” says Steve. “Maybe once. But by that time I had been a knight.”  
“My father had adored you,” says Tony, sighing. The candle of the lantern was starting to flicker and die out, and there was no town in sight. “He had loved you. I suppose I had been… jealous.”  
“I’m sorry,” says Steve, and the light dies. “That is not good.”  
“No, it is not,” says Tony.  
Tony took a step forward- and then fell. “It’s a root,” he says. “We’re in the forest, Rogers.”  
A loud groan comes from in front of them. Tony scoots back on the floor a little bit, the broken lantern long since abandoned. There must be a bush there.  
Then, two eyes, blinking and glowing in the faint light of the far away town, open. There’s a loud rustle of branches, and then- a roar, loud and clear, ringing through the woods and catching Tony off-guard.  
“That isn’t good either.” says Steve. “Run.”


End file.
